


What if it's us (and only us)?

by Ephemeral_Joy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Music Store, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff, Music, POV Adrien Agreste, Piano, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), Summer, Summer Romance, Sunburn, adrien is head over heels, marinette loves musicals, summer job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy
Summary: Adrien Agreste, secretly having a summer job as a piano teacher at a dingy music store, loves to stare at the raven-haired girl that explores the shop a few times a week. He doesn't know her name, but he already knows she's something special.Maybe even His Someone Special.(or: Adrien and Mari have an awesome summer romance)





	What if it's us (and only us)?

**Author's Note:**

> vfrbhednzker I'm back.  
> This is basically the personification of my yearning for summer since it's May and it's still less than 10 degrees celcius out.  
> Title from "Only Us" by Dear Evan Hansen | edited | not beta'd

‘Play it again.’ 

The kid, a little ginger girl whose face was littered with freckles, pursed her lips in concentration and slowly, fingers pointed, began playing the tune. It didn’t have the right rhythm, but it was discernible enough. 

In a flare of teen rebellion, Adrien had signed up to be a piano teacher in a music shop in his arrondissement. It was old-school, with vinyls and a jukebox and a cacophony of instruments tacked to the wall. Stuffed in one corner, where he and the girl sat, was a slightly out of tune piano. 

The situation wasn’t perfect (hell, it didn’t even pay well), but it has  _ his  _ thing. His job. Outside of his father’s piercing gaze and control. Aside from his friends only Louis, his driver and bodyguard, knew of his secret. But he kept his mouth shut, so Adrien didn’t feel the need to worry. Not this summer. 

There was also another bonus to the job. 

He stretched his neck, glancing past the metronome to the clock on the wall. She usually came around this time. Adrien rolled his lips: better not get his hopes up. 

‘So?’ 

‘Huh?’

The redhead crossed her arms, undignified he wasn’t paying attention. ‘What did you think?’

‘Oh!’, he exclaimed, a natural smile falling on his face, ‘It was good. A little slow, but the more you play it, the more recognizable it’ll become. We’ll go over it on… Thursday, right?’

The girl - what was her name again? - nodded. 

‘Cool. Your mum is waiting outside.’

Julia (that’s it!) smiled, ‘Thanks Adrien!’, and left the shop with a skip in her step. Adrien watched her go, fond. She was only ten, still looking at the world wide-eyed and wonderous. Sometimes he wished he could go back to that, but then he realised he couldn’t remember a time where it was normal. Or the Agreste definition of normal. Perhaps when his mum was still alive, but that was what? Five years ago? Six? Adrien tried not to linger on that. 

 

She walked in. 

The girl was enigmatic, with her glossy, raven black hair and vibrant, slanted blue eyes and olive skin. With her endless amount of colourful wrap dresses and her one singular denim jacket that engulfed her tiny figure. She always walked in with big, confident steps and a beam on her face. She always greeted the owner, Charlotte, with one kiss on the cheek and she always brought her own headphones to listen to tracks. It was rare if she didn’t leave with a cd or vinyl.

It was Adrien’s Girl. 

Yet he didn’t know her name nor… anything really. 

Adrien felt like a fool, staring at her from across the store, huddled behind a stuffy piano. Why couldn’t he just walk up to her and say hello? He knew he wasn’t unattractive, but what if he fell over some cords, or accidentally pushed over a shelf of cd’s? He was good at making friends, whether they were girls or not, but when it came to crushes… yikes. The last crush he had was on his fencing teammate Kagami (did… did he have a  _ type _ ? Pretty asian girls?) and was unable to look her in the eye for months, afraid that she’d figure him out by just seeing the look in his eye. Nino told him he was an open book, he couldn’t risk it. 

So he didn’t risk it. Not with Kagami, and not with Mystery Music Girl. 

But sometimes he let his mind wander, and pretend he did know her. He’d pretend her name was Margot or Madeleine or something, and that they listened to music together and discuss it and walk around Paris hand in hand and just do stupid shit like put a cheesy lock on the bridge or sit on rooftops at midnight until morning or… or… or just laugh together. Adrien realised he just had a need for a relationship, having been single all seventeen years of his life, but for some reason she just seemed right. Something about that smile made him think she was special. A special someone. 

‘Adrien?! Your next student is here!’, Charlotte yelled from behind the counter whilst painting her nails purple. A boy three heads shorter than him smiled at him shyly. As he made his way over to Adrien, the girl looked up from the cd’s, following the kid’s movement. Her eyes fell on Adrien. 

He froze, unsure if he should smile or pretend he didn’t see her.

But the moment was fleeting, a passing gaze. Her eyes were back on the rack. Adrien sighed. 

‘Hello, I’m Noah.’

‘Hey Noah.’

‘Why’re you sad?’, the kid asked whilst sitting down, inquisitive. He had a big band aid of Spider-Man on his cheek. 

Adrien chuckled, ‘You see that girl over there? I want her to notice me.’

Noah blinked at him. ‘But… you’re in the same room,’ he paused, when his eyes suddenly widened. ‘Are you invisible and am I the only one that can see you?!’

Clearly he has seen too many Marvel movies. 

‘No,’ Adrien laughed, ‘it’s… complicated. Never mind. Let’s start your lesson. What do you want to learn to play?’                  

As the lesson went on, he kept sneaking glances at the girl. She wore a red dress today, and he found it looking the best on her of all the colours he has seen her in. Her pink headphones dangled from her slender neck and she hopped from speaker to speaker. Once she even got so close he could hear her hum along to a track. 

 

If only he could hear her talk. 

 

At the end of the day, hours after she left, he let himself fall on his bed. His black cat, Plagg, made a face and moved away from him. Typical. 

‘Ever had girl problems, Plagg?’

The cat purred. 

‘Yeah, probably not.’

 

*

 

‘Did you know I actually don’t like piano?’

Adrien looked down, surprised, at the girl with hazel eyes. 

‘What?’

‘Yeah. My mum forced me.’

‘Uh-’

‘Manon!’

The small girl looked up, squealing as she saw the girl at the front door. ‘Mari!!!’

There she stood. The girl of his dreams.  _ Mari _ . It suited her: short and sweet. Manon, the bratty girl he had been teaching for nearly a two weeks (who presumably didn’t even like it), knew the gir - Mari. She knew Mari. Mari. He smiled. He loved her name. 

Mari smiled at him, ‘Thank you,’ she directed herself to the hopping girl, ‘Your mum asked me to pick you up because of a big news thing.’ Her voice was firm yet melodious, one you wouldn’t mind hearing a speech of. 

Manon shrugged, unbothered. ‘Can we get ice cream?’

Mari narrowed her eyes, ‘Don’t think I don’t know you’ve already had one.’ 

Adrien chuckled at the exchange. Cute. 

Mari grabbed Manon’s hand and waved at him one last time, purple dress swishing, before disappearing from sight. Adrien sighed, head falling on the piano, cringing as the harsh notes banged through the store. Charlotte jumped up.

‘Mon Dieu, Adrien!’ 

‘Sorry,’ he yelled back, shrinking in his seat. He was acting idiotic. But something inside of him urged to run after her. It was summer after all, the moment when everything was possible. His friend Nino used to kiss girls at parties he didn’t know before he met Alya, and he knew Alya had many flings before as well. All during the summertime. Why couldn’t he be brave like that? 

His fingers caressed the keys. He should play something, anything to get his mind of Mari. A  [ familiar tune ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GDe5RogwXY) found shelter in his hands and he began. 

Piano used to be an obligation, requirement number 158 by his father, but after his mother died he found solace in it. It was his way to escape the harsh reality of estranged fathers, dead mothers and a stunted social growth. His father wasn’t pressuring him anymore to play classical pieces as well since he now actually liked it. There was something extremely calming about playing a song and knowing he was doing it well.

As the notes faded out, vibrating through the store, he noticed a figure leaning against the wall. 

 

It was her.

 

When green met blue, she flushed red. ‘Uh, sorry! I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to just - you know -’

‘It’s fine,’ he interjected, ‘don’t worry about it.’

Mari, with a shaky smile on her face that left him feeling warm, stepped towards him. ‘You’re an amazing player, uh…’

‘Adrien.’

‘Adrien,’ she repeated, her smile securing. A spark in her eye made the colour electric. He was positive she could hear his heart hammer in his throat.     

‘It’s one of the reasons I come here often. I like hearing you play.’

_ What was she doing to him?! _

‘Thanks!’, he heard himself say. 

Slowly, she made her way to him. Weeks of snapshots from his peripheral vision suddenly become high definition as she stood in front of him. Her nose was dotted with freckles, she had a pimple on her forehead and there was small, nearly invisible scar at the edge of her lower lip. Her teeth weren’t Colgate white nor was her hair as immaculate as it looked in the distance. It was messy due to the moisture in the air and the heat outside. She was a real girl. It made him like her more. 

‘I’m Marinette. You’ve probably seen me be here all the time.’

Marinette. Mari for short. He smiled. ‘Yeah. Are you a music buff?’

She nodded, ecstatic. ‘Absolutely! I especially love classic and alternative rock. Like, Pearl Jam, but also Greta Van Fleet. What do you like? That was SYML, right?’

‘Yeah!’, he exclaimed, surprised. She recognised the song?! It wasn’t that known. ‘I like rock as well, but I’m more for jazz and indie, acoustic kind of songs. Like SYML. I don’t mind EDM either… do you know Robin Schulz?’

Mari giggled, suddenly sitting next to him on the piano seat and oh god, she’s so close. ‘Of course! My friend Alya loves him. She’s into rap and stuff.’

He tilted his head, peering at her. ‘Alya Césaire?’

She mimicked him, suspiciously amused. ‘Yes?’

‘She’s the girlfriend of my best friend. Nino?’

‘Wow,’ Mari laughed, ‘weird how small the world is sometimes. Alya’s my best friend! But I just come here for the great deals on vinyl. And for the jukebox.’

‘You know it’s broken, right?’ 

‘I do. But it’s my goal this summer to get it working. And play… I don’t know, “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”. Or “Eye Of The Tiger”,’ her cheeks reddened, ‘Something cheesy. And just dance. I already asked Charlotte and she’ll let me.’ The playful glint in her eye made him want to ask her if he could join her when she fixed it. But then he thought about the possibility of a photo leaking of him being here, and his father finding out, and taking away his only taste of freedom. So he remained quiet.

‘So why do you teach piano to bratty, little kids?’, she asked, conversationally. 

Adrien shrugged, unwilling to give the true reason, ‘I just like it.’ Marinette motioned at him to continue. ‘I like children, I guess. I like how they are so excited about life and learning things. They’re so curious, you know? I’ve been playing piano all my life, so it made sense to teach them.’

When he caught her gaze, he found a soft smile playing on her lips. It was in that moment that Adrien realised he truly was a hopeless romantic, as he thought he could stare into her eyes for more than an hour and not feel uncomfortable. This felt  _ nice _ .  

Her phone rang. 

‘Sorry,’ she said as she stood up, walking to the front of the shop. ‘Yes, maman?’

Adrien watched her lean against the door, seeing her hand play with the long strands of her hair.   
Would she be want to be his friend? Or did she just like talking to people? Not like he didn’t enjoy Nino’s company - hell, thanks to Nino he somewhat had a social life! - but it would be nice to do something else than watching anime and critiquing his rap songs. (LahiffeTracks almost had a 100K subscribers on Youtube!) With Mari, he’d explore different parts of friendship. 

Adrien absentmindedly touched a key, a dopey smile on his face. It was ridiculous to dream about a pretend-friendship with a girl he just met, but… but why not? He was tired of following proper decorum, decided by his father. 

 

Balls to the wall, Agreste. 

 

‘Hi,’ Mari approached him, apologetic, ‘I have to go. You’re here tomorrow, right?’

Elation rose in his chest, similar to the buzz someone felt of alcohol, ‘Yes.’

‘Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then and we can talk about more music! I-,’ she stopped herself, seemingly alarmed. ‘I mean, if you want to, like I totally  _ totally  _ get if you don’t want to talk to a girl you don’t know and I’m just barging into your personal space like I totally get that. Totes. Okay, I’ll leave now.’

‘Wait!’, Adrien laughed, enamoured by the fumbling girl. ‘You’re not bothering me. I… I like the company.’

Marinette perked up. ‘Really?!’ Her eyes left him breathless. Vivid, wide and piercing. Vivid, wide and piercing. Vivid, wide and piercing.

 

‘Vivid, wide and piercing?’, Nino repeated, chuckling at Adrien’s antics. It was hours later, and Nino had invited him to hang out. During the summer, Adrien’s father was more lax which meant he was allowed to have sleepovers. And Coca-Cola popsicles. (In private, obviously. What if the public saw him eating junk food? The horror!)

Adrien rolled his eyes, already embarrassed by his admission but too focused on the game to care about said embarrassment. ‘Yeah.’ He shot a zombie. 

‘Okay. So then -  _ putain _ ! - so then what?’      

‘And then she left,’ Adrien shrugged. He has tried to not overthink it too much. It was just a pretty girl coming back tomorrow to just talk to him and just start an easy friendship. It’s just that. Only that. 

(He couldn’t deny the feeling he had, though. She was something special, and she might be his someone special.)

‘But she’s coming back tomorrow?’ 

‘I guess,’ Adrien thought for a joke for second, smirking, ‘I mean, I  _ am  _ pretty great.  What’s not to love?’

Nino snorted, ‘Your face. It’s creepily perfect, dude.’

‘It’s not  _ perfect _ .’

‘It is though,’ Nino frowned, looking at him, ‘does she know you’re a model?’

That made Adrien pause. Did she? It didn’t seem like she did. He had a sixth sense whenever someone recognised him. It was in their coquettish voice and eager nature. Marinette wasn’t like that, he reckoned. She genuinely seemed to not know him, and wished to know more on a normal human level. It was quite... liberating. For the past few weeks when he had been teaching and she was there, he was just the Piano Guy to her. Another face in the crowd; not The Face.    

‘I don’t think she does,’ Adrien said, smiling. 

‘Weird how I’ve never met her if she’s Alya’s best friend,’ Nino mused, groaning as he got killed. He paused the game and stood up, stretching his back. ‘You want anything?’

‘Water,’ his eyes followed Nino as he stepped into the kitchen, ‘I don’t know, I guess that’s something between you and Alya to figure out.’

Nino threw him a bottle of water. ‘Mario Cart?’ 

‘I will end you on Rainbow Road.’

‘It’s on!’

 

*

 

‘Can I tell you a secret?’, Marinette whispered, albeit them being the only ones in the store aside from Charlotte, who was painting her nails green. Her face was close to him, and he could smell her perfume. Something flowery, like jasmine. It suited her. 

They’d been talking for an hour, but it felt like he had known her forever. Perhaps it was cheesy, but she was just so easy to talk to. Marinette held his eye as if he was the most important person to exist, her smile and laugh encouraging him to keep talking. It felt like talking to an old friend. 

Adrien smiled. ‘Tell me.’

‘Okay,’ she took a deep breath, ‘I... I love musicals.’

For a second he just stared at her with disbelief, before he guffawed with joy. Marinette truly had a brain of her own. 

‘That’s the secret?’, Adrien grinned.

Mari’s eyes crinkled with joy. ‘Yes! No one knows this! But you’re my music buddy!’

Buddy. He couldn’t contain the smile splitting his cheeks. He shook his head, gathering his emotions. ‘And what musicals? And I thought you just liked rock?’

‘I do! But I also love tons of musicals, especially the newer ones. Like, Dear Evan Hansen? Have you heard of it? My English isn’t the best but I love the lyrics. Or, um, Be More Chill? You’ve probably heard of Hamilton. Oh!,’ she clapped her hands with excitement, ‘Legally Blonde! Wait, you should hear “Seventeen” from Heathers.’ 

He chuckled, ‘Are you in theatre or something?’

‘No.’ She played a single note on the piano, pondering, ‘I can’t act or sing to save my life. I love to design though.’

‘Design,’ he perked up, intrigued, ‘like, clothes?’

‘Yes,’ Marinette nodded, ‘I made this dress myself!’, she pointed at the  [ yellow dress ](https://www.forever21.com/eu/shop/catalog/product/f21/dress/2000341654) she was wearing. 

‘That’s really cool!’, he complimented, genuinely impressed. Don’t fall in love, don’t fall in love, don’t fall in love, don’t fall in love.   
But then she her smile got brighter and morphed into a beam that struck him in the heart and suddenly he was unable to look anywhere but her and he was so, so doomed. 

‘Thanks!’, she played with the hem, ‘I hope to start my own line one day…  _ jeez  _ we’re only talking about me! What are your hobbies? Aside from piano?’

Merde. He hoped the question wouldn’t come so soon! He was enjoying her company way too much. What if her whole demeanour changed due to his supposed “stardom”? He cringed. The stardom he received without doing anything beneficial to society. He just had a pretty face and was coincidentally tall enough to run shows. (Even so, he was still one of the shorter guys, at a full 181 centimeters. Most edged towards 190.)    

‘I model,’ he said.

Marinette flushed red, finding her words, ‘I, well, I’m not surprised. Because, you know…,’ she shook her head, the blush leaving her face, ‘Anyway, for who? Like, upcoming designers?’

‘Uh, no,’ he felt himself shrink. He hated talking about this. With surprise and being starstruck also came judgement and envy. ‘For GABRIEL and Prada. Sometimes Dior Homme and Hollister.’

Marinette was quiet for a moment, roving his face as if she tried to fit puzzle pieces. This was it. The end of a short-lived friendship, one where the wick wasn’t even lit. 

‘That’s... really cool,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m mostly surprised Hollister is in that list.’

Adrien puffed out a laugh. Marinette instantly got added to the short list of people in his life who acted normally around him. (That list does not include his father.)

‘Yeah. My father doesn’t like it but I’m friends with a lot of the models so I kind of got sucked into it. It’s fun, the trips. They call it business trips but it’s more a vacation where they coincidentally take photos of you,’ he winked at the latter, and she laughed along. 

He took a deep breath, the last ripples of tension leaving his body.   
‘Can I listen to one of the musical songs?’

‘What?’, Marinette tilted her head, ‘Oh! Yes!’, she grabbed her phone from the inside of her denim jacket and snatched the headphones from her neck. She opened Spotify, went to a her “dedicated playlist for musicals” (‘The playlists Spotify makes aren’t the greatest…’ ‘Agreed.’) and clicked on a song. She twisted one ear they could both hear.

‘I won’t tell you what musical it’s from,’ she whispered as a girl started to talk in pitch with the instruments. Adrien smiled, sneaking glances at the girl next to him. She had her eyes closed and furrowed brows as she concentrated on the lyrics. Marinette was beautiful. 

 

_ So what if it's us? _

_ What if it's us _

_ And only us _

_ And what came before won't count anymore or matter? _

_ Can we try that? _

 

The notes faded out, the tragical love song coming to an end. She opened her electric blue eyes, seeing his already on hers. Green and blue found each other. They remained quiet, face to face, shoulders touching. A shaky breath left her lips. 

‘So?’, she whispered. 

‘Huh?’, he truly couldn’t think. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. His heart palpitated and he was on a high, like when he tried a joint from Nino for the first time a month ago. 

‘What did you think of the song?’, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Adrien repressed the urge to touch it. 

‘It…’, collect yourself, Agreste!, ‘it was really good. Sweet. What was it?’

‘“Only Us”, from Dear Evan Hansen. With context it’s bittersweet, but without it it’s just a cute love song.’

Adrien nodded, unable to articulate any coherent thoughts. 

 

‘Adrien?’

 

‘Yeah, sorry, um- do you… do you want to take a walk?’ What did he just say?   

Marinette straightened her jacket, jumping up. 'Sure. The park?’ A few blocks from the music store was the Notre Dame, which had a park attached to it. It was a little later in the day, so the tourists must’ve gone back to their hotels by now. 

Adrien stood up as well, saluting at Charlotte and notifying her he’d be back in an hour to help her clean everything up for tomorrow. It was a menial task he didn’t get paid for, but anything was better than the cold cage he lived in. 

‘Do you like modelling?’, she asked, once they arrived in the sunlit park. Golden pools of light simmered through the lush green leaves of the trees. To his right, a couple was intertwined on a bench, talking. To his left, a jogger ran by. He heard the click of a camera, but he tried not to get too paranoid about it. Must be for the Notre Dame, not him. 

He focused on her, ‘Yeah. Sometimes. I don’t know. I like it when it’s Hollister, because of those vacations, but I don’t like GABRIEL since my father expects me to be perfect and-’

‘Wait. Are you the  _ son  _ of Gabriel Agreste?’, Marinette’s eyes widened with disbelief. He cringed. Once he pushed through the embarrassment of his status, they’d be okay. 

‘Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. Let’s not make it a big deal.’

Marinette opened and closed her mouth as if to swallow the words that were about to spout from her lips. She nodded. ‘Okay.’ And then, ‘I like this.’

His heart stopped for a moment. ‘What?’

‘I don’t know about you,’ she giggled, and he thought it was his favourite sound, ‘but I don’t randomly go on walks with boys I don’t know. But I like this. Doesn’t it feel…,’ she looked down, ‘right?’

Giddy, Adrien stared at her. Marinette’s honesty and vivacity was like taking a deep breath after being underwater for so long. His vision got clear, the buzz in his ears dissipated, and it was like everything made sense again. 

‘Serendipity,’ he concluded. She scrunched her nose. Adorable. 

‘Yes. Serendipity.’

With that, she gave him one ear of her headphones and made him listen to one of her favourite musicals again. Shoulder to shoulder, hearts in sync.

 

*

 

Marinette began to visit so frequently, that he started to call her Mari instead. A promotion in friendship, if you will. She’d asked him his schedule, and every time he had work, she’d be there to hang out whenever he didn’t have lessons. Even so, she seemed to like watching him teach. It was oddly thrilling to find a person who instantly cared so much and devoted so much energy to you. It was quickly pretty clear to him that Mari was either all in or all out; no half-assing. Mari’s friendship wasn’t hard to get, but it was hard to earn, and somehow he was doing something right.  

 

On one regular Monday, she barged through the door with a cup of raspberry sorbet and two plastic spoons. Well, a cup… more like a pint. 

 

‘The ice cream was on sale in the grocery store!’, she exclaimed, dopey. ‘Hi Charlotte! Oh, hi Noah!’ She slalomed between the rows of cd’s, high ponytail swishing behind her. With a clunk, she placed the pint on top of the piano. ‘Try it,’ she said to him. ‘I’m going to look at the new cd’s - I think I saw the newest cd of Les Amazones d’Afrique.’ And like the whirlwind she was, she ran to the other side of the shop. He smiled, shaking his head. Her bubbly personality was incorrigible and he  _ loved  _ it. 

‘She noticed you,’ Noah pointed out. His expression was neutral.

‘She did.’

‘You don’t look sad anymore.’

Adrien shrugged, hiding a smile, ‘She makes me happy.’

‘Good. You look ugly when you were sad,’ Noah turned back to the keys, trying the melody again as if he didn’t hurt Adrien’s self-esteem at all. Jesus, kids were brutal. He took a scoop of the raspberry sorbet. Adrien hummed: for a grocery store brand, it was pretty good.     

Marinette came back, shaking the cd in her hand. ‘I got it. What do you think of the ice cream?’

‘It’s good, it’s-’

‘Did you know you make him happy?’, Noah blurted, unbothered whilst pressing the wrong key. Adrien flushed red, instantly regretting ever taking this job. He heard Mari giggle, and when he looked up he saw a fond smile on her face. 

‘I did know that,’ she directed to Noah, playing with the ends of her hair, ‘it’s nice to hear it though.’

_ I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her, I want to kiss her.  _

Thirty minutes later, when Noah left, Marinette had taken his spot and the pint was nearly finished, she looked him square in the eyes.   
‘Do I actually make you happy?’ 

This startled him. They’ve been friends for about three weeks now, with Marinette being the most uplifting part of his day. She brought pastries from her parents’ bakery he had yet to visit, gave him music recommendations and even promised to make him an embroidered t-shirt. He felt like he didn’t bring much to the table, but Mari had reassured him that she was just the type to coddle one with gifts. 

‘You’re the best part of my day, Mari,’ he confessed, meeting her gaze. Marinette pursed her lips, a smile struggling to keep away from her pretty face. He should feel afraid. He was basically confessing, playing all his cards. But there was no strategy to this game - hell, it wasn’t even a game. He just loved being around her. Simple as that. 

He was hopelessly falling for her like the fool he was. 

Marinette placed her head on his shoulder, sighing. ‘Is it weird if I tell you I consider you one of my best friends?’

‘No,’ Adrien immediately reacted, ‘not at all.’ If he was superstitious, he’d think them meeting was fate. He thought it was anyway, because this summer was anything but normal. 

They were quiet for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence. Adrien revered in the fact that he could sling his arm around her shoulder and touch her hair, that he only had to move his face slightly to kiss her forehead and smell the sweet jasmine that lingered around her. He didn’t do that, but the point was that he could.

Marinette wrapped her arm around his waist, burrowing her face into his shoulder. 

‘Something wrong?’, he whispered. 

Marinette shook her head, peeking at him through her lashes. His heart skipped a beat. ‘No… I’m just really happy.’

‘Me too,’ he sighed. Today was perfect. 

 

*

 

‘I met Marinette,’ Nino said as a greeting when he opened the door. Adrien rose his eyebrows on the other side of the threshold, scoffing. 

‘Nice to see you too, my dear best friend.’

Nino ignored his statement. ‘Dude, I get it now. She’s really pretty.’

Adrien passed him, dumping his overnight bag in Nino’s bedroom, ‘I know.’

‘Are you going to ask her out?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What?’

‘Nino, everything about this situation is going too well. It’s - it’s perfect. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.’

Nino frowned, sitting in his desk chair. His room was chaotic, music instruments dumped in corners, on cabinets and tacked on walls. His computer was lit, showing an intricate production system. It was horribly messy, but so  _ so  _ Nino. 

‘No offense dude, but this isn’t your father disappointing you every second of the day.’

‘Exactly!’, Adrien exclaimed, voicing his fear, ‘She’s too good for me.’

‘Bullshit. I bet she has a crush on you.’

Adrien scrunched his nose, he hated that word: crush. It sounded so juvenile. Whatever he felt for Mari was more than just a kindergarten crush.  

‘I disagree.’ Adrien cocked his head. ‘I think her friendly nature is just deceiving.’

Nino smiled, lovesick. ‘Maybe, but I also thought that Alya hated me, and look how that turned out.’

 

*

 

‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’

 

It was another sunny summer day (was it weekend? Adrien couldn’t recall) spent with Marinette. They’ve moved to her balcony, where they sat next to each other at her round garden table with a bowl of grapes in between them. As they relished the warmth of the afternoon sun, Mari was embroidering the t-shirt she promised him and he was reading. She kept it from his sight, to keep it a secret; his only hint was red thread. Adrien didn’t really remember what his book was about, since he kept sneaking glances at the bronzed beauty next to him. Every day, new freckles emerged on her skin, and her eyes got more vivid. It was foolish of him to behave like this, but Mari was like the sun: enigmatic, needed and  _ warm _ . She was the type of person who’d jump in front of a gun to save someone, but he wasn’t sure yet whether that trait was a virtue or a liability. 

‘What?’, he repeated, looking up from the pages. Adrien blinked, seeing black spots instead of Mari. 

‘Do you believe in it? Love at first sight?’, she abandoned her work, staring at him intently. Adrien noticed that her hair had gotten curly from the humidity and that her shoulders were sunburned. Her vulnerability comforted him, which is why he replied.

‘... Yeah. You?’

Mari glanced back at her work, ‘I think I do.’

‘Have you been in love before?’ His anxious question made her look into the Parisian landscape with furrowed brows. Adrien wondered if he crossed a line when she answered.

‘Maybe. I’m not sure. I had a relationship with a guy for a year that I thought I loved, but when it ended… I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like we were friends forcing to be more.’ She looked at him.   
‘Have you been in a relationship?’

‘Does a kindergarten girlfriend count?’, Adrien asked with a wry grin. 

Marinette laughed. ‘No.’

‘Then no. Being homeschooled doesn’t really give you an opportunity to date,’ he shrugged, not embarrassed. Marinette seemed to understand without showing pity. He didn’t feel bad for himself either, if he was honest with himself. Adrien was okay with having all his firsts be later in life. There was this subconscious pressure that came with trying everything when you get to the age of sixteen, but Adrien realised there was nothing wrong with waiting longer. 

‘But, you do model,’ Mari pointed out, plopping a grape between her lips.  _ Don’t focus on her lips. _ ‘I’m sure someone like Thylane Blondeau or Kaia Gerber has tried…’

His wry smile got brighter. ‘Jealous?’, he joked. 

Mari peered at him, sticking her tongue out. Adrien laughed. Things were easy with Marinette. They always were. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hm?’

‘You’re just as pretty as those models.’ 

Blue met green with surprise. Her intensity still made his heart flutter erratically, even after all these weeks. 

A soft smile played on her lips. ‘Thank you.’        

Later that day, when the sun was setting and he was forced to go home from Natalie, she’d given him the soft, cotton tee. It was white, with three roses embroidered on the left breast. On the inside, where the tag should be, was a little heart with an  _ M  _ scribbled next to it. The next day, when he saw her again whilst teaching in the music store, he had noticed her pink cheeks as she had glanced at him numerous times. He had winked, pointing at the t-shirt. After his lesson, she sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder as he played simple ballads. He has wondered if his shoulder wasn’t too hard and bony to rest on, but she always remained where she was, so he didn’t complain. She exhaled.

When Marinette spoke, he found a tremble in her voice. ‘I normally don’t do this, but I looked you up and... what happened to your mum is… I can’t imagine…’ Looking at her, she seemed to have already regretted bringing it up.

‘It’s fine, Mari,’ he said, slightly vexed. 

‘It’s not though.’ She snaked a hand around his arm. ‘You lost your mother.’ 

Adrien stopped playing, ‘Can we not talk about it?’

He hated how he felt so agitated just thinking about the topic. So what if his mother just disappeared? So what if they found her at the bottom of the Seine, blue and unrecognisable? So what if she just died without saying goodbye? So what if they never found the killer? So what,  _ right _ ?

It has been years, how could he not talk about it? 

‘I’m sorry. About starting the conversation.’

He smiled ruefully. ‘It’s okay… you’re okay, Mari. I’m just not… used to talking about it.’

She remained quiet for a moment. At first he thought she was formulating a careful sentence, as to not make him “angry” or “explosive”, like how people acted around him when they first found his mum, but then she did something completely different. 

 

She kissed his cheek. Softly, faintly. 

 

Her nose brushed against his cheekbone, her body pressed against his arm. Adrien froze. Warmth coursed through him like the blood pumping in his veins when sprinting. His mind was deliciously empty and all that simple action did was made him want to kiss her. For real. 

Marinette’s lips slowly left his skin, cheeks red and avoiding his gaze. She picked on a thread of her jeans. 

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, ‘I don’t know why I did that, I - um - sorry.’ She breathed the words into his neck, making him shiver. Instinctively, his hand found a way to her jaw, making her look up. Adrien felt like he was high on dopamine, being so close to her. His thumb caressed the soft skin, one he had yearned to touch for weeks. 

A smile wobbled on her features, eyes roving his eyes and lips and eyes and lips and lips. He leaned in, noses touching and eyes locked on one another and he was engulfed by her jasmine scent and intoxicating being and it was too much but it felt so good.  

 

Charlotte barged in from the back door, carrying boxes as she screamed his name. ‘Adrien! Come help me! My poor spaghetti arms aren’t made for hard labour!’

Adrien sighed, closing his eyes momentarily before creating unfortunate space between him and a dazed Marinette.

‘No problem, Charlotte.’ He took the boxes from her, his boss making friendly eye contact with him before falling on Marinette. 

‘Oh! Hi Marinette! How are you?’

‘Good,’ the girl smiled, ‘and you?’

‘Better now that I don’t have to carry boxes anymore. I know it’s horribly un-feminist but I don’t care,’ the forty year old huffed, ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a new nail polish I’d like to try.’ She conjured a bottle from her pocket, which showed a red colour.

As Adrien moved and unboxed the load of new arrivals, Marinette passed him. 

‘I got to go,’ Mari said, seemingly nervous. He didn’t just ruin everything, did he? She waved her phone in front of her. ‘My mum wants me.’

‘That’s cool,’ he shrugged, ‘I’ll see you - um -,’ did she still want to see him after what had conspired? 

‘Tomorrow,’ she smiled, nervosity melting away. ‘Like always.’

Adrien grinned, relieved. ‘Yeah,’ he breathed, ‘like always.’

When she left, his eyes lingering on her back, Charlotte spoke up. 

‘If I was obsessed with social media, I’d tweet you were kissing a girl in a sketchy music store. You’re lucky I have an aversion to technology.’

Adrien nearly choked on his own breath. ‘ _ What _ ? No, no, no, we weren’t kissing. I mean, we almost were, but that’s not the point. Please don’t…  _ exploit  _ this.’  

Charlotte rose one eyebrow, unimpressed. ‘Didn’t you hear me, kid? I don’t care about social media or about your reputation. There are more tall, blonde boys where I came from.’ Charlotte is part Norwegian and lived there her entire childhood. Her French was immaculate, but every once in awhile traces of her Norwegian heritage shone through in her accent.  

‘What made it almost?’

Adrien looked at her pointedly. ‘You.’

She laughed, going back to her nails.

 

When he got home in the late afternoon, chucking his messenger bag in the corner of his room, he fell onto his bed. Adrien heard a mewl and felt a furry head on his leg. He peeked and saw Plagg staring at him expectantly. Adrien rolled his eyes. 

‘What? You’re not getting any treats.’

Plagg hissed. 

‘I’m not mopey.’ Adrien crossed his arms. ‘I just…’

He was confused. Was the moment they had all in his head? What if he made her uncomfortable? What if she -  _ merde  _ \- was just being nice? Taking care of the motherless homeschooled boy. Adrien cringed. 

He really liked Mari. Even if he misread the situation, being so close to her made him feel on fire. Like he was in a mosh pit at a Jagged Stone concert, or at the top of a roller coaster or… being around her had a whole unique feeling by itself. Adrien was falling for her, and he didn’t want nor could stop.     

If only he knew what she was thinking.

 

Adrien shot up, Plagg springing away with annoyance. He  _ could  _ know.

 

**Chat between Mari💃 and Adrien🎹**

 

**can we talk about what happened?**

**lets meet up x**

**park next to the shop tomorrow?**

**sure xx**

 

Adrien stared at the two x’s, smiling. Cute.

 

The following afternoon came to be, and Adrien found her at the swings on the playground, sneaker-clad feet crossed. She smiled at him, jumping off the set. Adrien was taken aback by her beauty once again, the way she tilted her head when she greeted him, dimples in her cheek and lashes covering her eyes.   

‘Hi,’ Mari chirped, picking at the buttons of her pink overalls. There was a slight tremble in her voice and her cheeks were tinted pink as green met blue. 

‘Hey,’ he said. He didn’t know how to start.      

She took a step closer. ‘How are you? You - uh - you looked like you saw a- a ghost yesterday.’ Adrien rose his eyebrows in surprise. Marinette has never stuttered before! Did he make her nervous? In a good way? 

Adrien laughed bashfully, ruffling his messy hair, ‘Yeah, I um- I was surprised by Charlotte.’

‘Me too,’ Mari mumbled, clasping her hands in front of her. It was quiet for a moment, making Adrien even more nervous. Why were they so awkward? 

‘Look,’ she exclaimed, startling him, ‘if you were just in the moment and didn’t actually want to kiss me, that’s fine. I totally get that and we can just-’

‘Wow, wait, no!’, Adrien threw his hands in front of him, alarmed. They were on a completely different page! Marinette clamped her mouth shut, expectant. 

‘It’s the opposite! I wanted…’, he huffed, scratching his neck, ‘I wanted to kiss you.’

Tentatively, Marinette took another step, making him grin. ‘You did?’, she whispered, nose scrunched. 

‘Yeah,’ he breathed. 

Mari giggled, kicking his foot with the toe of her shoe. ‘I’ve been worrying for nothing.’

Adrien couldn’t keep the smile off his face, fighting it for a second. She was the most adorable person he’d ever met. A strip of sunlight on a rainy day. He placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing the exposed skin with his thumb. Like magnets, they edged closer. 

‘I’m falling for you, Mari,’ he said, solemn. His eyes were locked on her blue ones, fond. Adrien felt like he just exposed his ribcage and showed her his heart that always hammered erratically when she was around. 

Marinette’s shoulders dropped, eyes shining with bliss. She took the hand from her shoulder and interlaced it with hers, keeping it close to her chest.

‘I’m falling for you too.’

Adrien Agreste wanted to kiss her so badly like his life depended on it, but not here. Not on a public playground where he knew other people were that, if they looked close enough, would recognise him. The chance of them taking a picture and posting it on Twitter was likely, and he’d rather not drah Marinette into this mess so soon. He wanted to believe she was more than just a summer fling, that it wouldn’t disappear alongside the warmer temperature by the time October arrived. She was meant to be kept out of the spotlight for as long as he could. 

He quickly kissed her hand, making her blush a deep red. 

‘I want to kiss you, like really bad, but not here,’ he explained with haste. She hid her smile with her hair. 

‘You’re adorable.’

‘Why, thank you.’ He winked.

She tugged on his hand. ‘Let’s go to the store.’

The pair weaved themselves through the throngs of people visiting the Notre Dame, sneaking into the shop by using the back door which led to the magasin. Cardboard boxes filled with music were stacked on shelves. Marinette looked around with big eyes, as if she just entered Disneyland for the first time. 

‘I’ve found my one true love.’

‘I feel betrayed,’ Adrien joked, ‘I never pegged you as a music-digger.’

‘ _ Obviously _ ,’ Marinette said, playing along. ‘Totally not because you are the cutest, most kind guy I’ve ever met.’

Adrien was quiet for a second, taken aback. ‘That can’t be true.’

‘It is though,’ she admitted. Marinette closed the door behind them. ‘You’re the first boy I’ve ever felt this way about, Adrien. It’s… real.’

In one fluid movement, his hands were on her cheeks, smile splitting from his features. His entire body shivered from her closeness, the warmth she emitted.

It was too soon to tell her he loved her, but he basically already knew.   


Too soon, he reminded himself. But in a few months, he’d tell her immediately. He’d kiss her and tell her. And even if she didn’t say it back he’d wait. He already knew he would wait. 

Marinette slung her arms around his neck, and Adrien bend down to kiss her. His first kiss. It wasn’t a monumental, fireworks, “let’s journal two pages about this”-kiss. It was soft and sweet, the way her lips moulded with his and pecked. An underlying intensity simmering underneath the surface he was sure would emerge later. He wanted to kiss her again. 

Adrien placed his forehead on hers, sighing blissfully. Mari giggled uncontrollably.

‘I want to do that again,’ she said. 

Adrien wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, ‘You’re reading my mind, Mari.’

They closed the space between them, this time with more fervour. Marinette clung to him tighter, he gripped her waist. He felt her tongue nipping at him as well, which made him curl his toes with pleasure.         

Summer was halfway done, only a month left before his last year of school began, yet he knew that this wasn’t their last kiss. Neither the one on August 31st.

 

(Later, in October when they were lounging in her bed, between a state of talking and napping, he told her he loved her. Heavy-lidded, she had smiled. Marinette had rolled over to him, nose to nose. She told him she loved him as well. Before he could kiss her, she said she probably had loved him since their first conversation. He laughed, challenging her by telling her he has been in love with her since he first saw her. Marinette kissed him, saying he won. 

‘No,’ he said, as she slipped a hand underneath his soft t-shirt, ‘I think we both did.’)       
  


 

(But before that, somewhere around August, Marinette was able to fix the jukebox. They danced to ABBA, Tears For Fears and John Denver. When Charlotte went out to grab lunch, they changed the song to “Only Us”, which Marinette believed was their song.

‘It really isn’t though.’

‘The moment I try to be cheesy, you ruin it.’

‘Cheesy, you say? Mari, you make me melt.’

‘Stop it.’

‘I think you and I would look gouda together.’

‘Stop!’

‘Brie mine, Mari.’

Marinette pursed her lips, unable to keep her beautiful smile away that always lit up a room. ‘Just dance with me.’

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. ‘What about a waltz?’

Marinette crossed her arms. ‘You know how to waltz?’

He swept her away, perfectly in sync with the beats. She laughed with delight, clinging to him. 

Even after school started again, and he ended his summer job, the pair kept coming back. Just to dance.

  
  
  
  


And admire Charlotte’s nail art. That too.)

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me on tumblr: https://lydias--stiles.tumblr.com/


End file.
